Her Worst Memories
by TheOracle18
Summary: What did Ginny see or hear when the Dementor came into their compartment on the Hogwarts Express in Harry's third year? Ginny reflects upon her memories of her first year. - One shot


_A/N: Hi! So this is a one-shot from Ginny's point of view, inspired by the chapter 'The Dementor' in the Prisoner of Azkaban, it's mostly Ginny thinking about her memories from her first year._

_So yeah hope you like it! _

_Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, or any characters in the series. Also I don't own some of the dialogue at the beginning which come from Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban._

_Enjoy!_

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><p>Sitting in a compartment on the Hogwarts Express, Ginny Weasley felt a terrible coldness stealing over her as the lights flickered out. Becoming scared she rushed out of her compartment intent on finding one of her brothers (though maybe not Percy), and it so happened that she came across the compartment Ron was in first.<p>

As she approached, the compartment door opened and she felt a sharp pain on her forehead as she banged into someone coming out of the same compartment she was trying to get into. She and the other person, squealed in pain.

"Who's that?"

"Who's that?"

Ginny and the other person spoke at the same time, and they both instantly recognised the other voice.

"Ginny?"

"Hermione?"

"What are you doing?"

"I was looking for Ron -"

"Come in and sit down -"

"Not here! I'm here!" she heard Harry exclaim as she tried to sit down in the seat closest to the door only to find it was already occupied. Blushing profusely, though no one could see in the darkness, she hurriedly sat down in the next seat, though not before accidentally standing on someone else's foot.

The mystery of who's foot it was was solved when she heard Neville Longbottom's voice, "Ouch!"

"Quiet!" she heard another hoarse voice, and became alarmed since she didn't recognise the voice, but no one else seemed to be worried, and soon after there was a crackling sound and light filled the compartment, illuminating a sandy haired man in patched robes who looked alert and wary.

"Stay where you are," he continued, standing up and moving to leave the compartment, probably to investigate what was going on with the train.

But before he reached it the door opened by itself revealing a large, cloaked figure which I recognised as a Dementor, an Azkaban guard. But what was it doing on the Hogwarts Express? Ginny's heart filled with dread knowing what would happen if the Dementor stayed for too long, knowing what she would remember.

The temperature continued to decrease as the Dementor started to draw in a slow rattling breath, but of course it was sucking more than air from the compartment.

She felt like ice was spreading through her veins as her head filled with images from the year before:

Finding Tom's diary in her textbook… waking up covered in feathers and blood… seeing Colin in the Hospital WIng after he had been attacked… flushing the diary down the toilet… walking down to the Chamber… Tom coming out of the DIary…

Then a silver light filled her vision and the cold seemed to recede, she became aware that she was curled up and shaking in her seat.

She then noticed that Harry had passed out on the floor and instantly felt terrible. How bad could his memories be that he wouldn't be able to deal with seeing then to the point that he passed out? Even she had been able to stay conscious though she felt very weak and shaky.

She barely registered that the others were trying to wake Harry becoming lost in her own memories of the year before.

Ginny's emotions were in turmoil. She still felt a great deal of guilt over what had happened, though it had helped to be with her family, and blamed herself for being so weak as to let herself be possessed. If only she had been stronger Tom wouldn't have been able to control her. She never wanted to feel so helpless again.

She had tried to fight Tom, that was her only defence, but by the time she realised what was causing her memory loss she had already gotten in too far over her head. She would manage to not write to Tom for a whole day and then wake up in the middle of the night shaking, desperately reaching for the diary and her quill.

Confiding in Tom had been an addiction that she couldn't kick, she never realised she had become so dependent on him until it was far too late for her to do anything about it on her own.

Then she had finally come up with a solution, to get rid of the diary so she couldn't write in it even if she was desperate to. She was so overwrought that as soon as she had the idea she had grabbed the diary and ran to the first place she thought of, maybe it was Tom's influence that had guided her to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom but she had thrown the diary down the first toilet she came to and fled back to her dormitory.

And for the next few weeks things had got better for her, it was like she was herself again she was finally free of Tom. The attacks had stopped and though this confirmed her worst fears that it was her who had been responsible, she had thought that as long as she never wrote in the diary again then it would be the end of the matter, after all no one had died so there was no need to tell anyone about her role in the attacks. She had felt guilty and a little angry that people suspected that Harry was the Heir of Slytherin, even if she hadn't been the cause of the attacks she still wouldn't have thought Harry would do such a thing. She had been too ashamed to confess and since she didn't have the diary any more she had no proof that her actions had been against her will, no one would have believed her.

But then Valentines Day had come, she was lining up to go to her Charms class when Harry had walked past, and as with any other time she had seen him that year her face had burned with a bright blush and he hadn't even noticed her. She had watched as one of Lockhart's ridiculous dwarfs had tackled Harry to give him his singing Valentine, she had heard the twins plotting this little prank at the breakfast table this morning, they had felt that Harry needed cheering up and while she didn't think this was the best way to go about it since it was likely to just embarrass him, she hadn't interfered.

When Malfoy had nonchalantly picked up a very familiar diary it had felt like her heart had stopped. Harry had found the diary. What if Tom made him open the Chamber and attack muggleborns? She had begun to panic. She couldn't let Tom do that to Harry, no matter what the consequences where she couldn't just stand by and let Harry be at the mercy of Tom. She couldn't let Tom hurt him. Even worse, what if Tom told him everything, that she had been the one attacking students? She could be expelled!

She barely remembered her crazed search through his dormitory, she remembered being so focused on getting the diary away from Harry that she ripped and destroyed his books and his bedding to find it. She remembered the feeling of relief that had rushed though her when she finally held it in her hands again, felt the smooth soft leather of the cover.

Helping Harry hadn't been her only motivation though. A part of her, a weaker part, had been desperate to write in the diary again ever since she had gotten rid of it, to have Tom comfort her, reassure her that everything would be alright. Now that she had the diary was she could have her friend back again. She had foolishly thought that it would be different this time, though she was adamant that she wouldn't write in the diary unless she absolutely had to, she had reassured herself that since she knew what was happening now she could control it and that it wouldn't do any harm just to talk to Tom for a little while. After all Tom was her friend, maybe if she explained to him that she didn't like what he was doing then he would stop.

But soon she was doing almost nothing but writing to him. She neglected her homework and sometimes didn't even go to class, making excuses to her dorm mates and teachers that she was ill.

She remembered a day when she felt more aware of what was happening around her, it was the day of a Gryffindor Quidditch match, and having always loved Quidditch she was determined to go, to watch her brothers, not to mention Harry, play. Though that wasn't exactly what ended up happening. She had felt excited about the match and eager to get down to the pitch but had suddenly felt an overwhelming desire to confide those feelings in Tom before she left.

Looking back it was probably the fact that she had felt powerful emotion that Tom had been able to take control of her. She had woken up in her dormitory thinking that she had simply dozed off after writing to Tom since she hadn't been sleeping well lately.

She should have recognised the signs for what they were.

Still excited for the match and hoping she wasn't late, she had quickly gone down to the common room to find it packed. She had asked Fred, who was nearby, what was going on and he explained that the match had been called off because there had been another attack. A double attack.

She was horrified, if only she had stopped writing to Tom. She felt even more terrible when she found out that Hermione had been one of the people who had been attacked, though felt relief that neither of the girls had been killed. Ron was devastated, and even though Ginny hadn't known Hermione well, Hermione had always been nice to her, and helped her when she asked.

Ginny had vowed never to write in the diary again, and to her surprise she managed to stick to this for a while. But she could feel the urge to reach for the diary growing every day, to the point where she became desperate enough to go to someone for help.

She had debated for a long time on who to go to. She didn't feel comfortable with going to a teacher and she knew if she talked to Percy he would tell her immediately to go to a teacher. She knew that the twins wouldn't take her seriously, so since she had no friends she felt particularly close to, this left Ron. He may be a bit of a git but they had always been close before coming to Hogwarts, especially when they had been left at home alone when the twins had gone to Hogwarts. The only problem with confiding in Ron was that Harry would most likely be there, or if she managed to get Ron alone, he would probably ask Harry for advice. But she eventually got desperate enough that it didn't matter if she had to talk to Harry, as long as they helped her.

She remembered feeling so nervous, and constantly questioning if she was doing the right thing. Maybe she should just keep it to herself? What if they didn't believe her? What if they told someone? Eventually she just had to do it before she lost her nerve. She had barely been able to look at them let alone talk and Ron hadn't exactly been helpful, but she couldn't blame him, he hadn't known what was happening to her. And then Harry had talked to her, and it seemed like he understood what she was trying to tell them better than Ron since he asked if she knew anything about the Chamber, but every time she tried to say something, say anything, it was as though her throat closed up and no sound would come out. She had been about to answer and tell them everything when Percy had come along and her courage failed her.

She had felt so helpless, telling Harry and Ron had been her last hope and she had missed her chance. Her will power was slowly crumbling and she could barely stop herself from shaking. She managed to make it back to her dormitory before she fell down hardly able to move, all her dorm mates had gone to class. She knew she was suffering because she refused to give in and write to Tom. She had fought it with all she had because she knew instinctively that this would be the last time she would ever write to Tom, that something terrible would happen if she gave in to her weakness.

But she couldn't seem to stop herself from crawling to her bedside table where she kept the diary, as if some force was pulling her towards it. She had felt pain in her fingers, but felt disconnected from it. She realised she had drug her nails so hard into the floorboards, in an attempt to stop herself moving, that large splinters had dug into her finger tips. Blood had leaked from the wounds. But she couldn't help but keep moving.

Her hands had frantically scrambled against the draws trying to open the right one. As soon as she touched the diary it was as though she became trapped in her own mind, aware of everything but unable to control anything. She heard a ghostly triumphant laugh, shrill and cold, echo in her mind.

She was soon moving quickly, the diary clutched tightly in her hand, to the familiar second floor corridor, she shook as she felt her hand move to take out her wand and write on the wall a message which turned her blood to ice. She felt silent tears leak from her eyes and leave cold trails down her cheeks. Why was Tom doing this to her? He was her friend, wasn't he?

With the message finished she moved into the bathroom close by. Turning to face the sinks she had heard strange sounds coming from somewhere, it didn't take long for her to realise they were coming from her own mouth. She hadn't understood what she was saying but the effect of them was quite obvious since the sink started to move until it created a hole big enough for a man to fit down, without hesitation she quickly slid down it landing in a gloomy tunnel, bones of rodents scattered on the floor. She had never been more scared in her life but her body had moved with confidence and assurance through the tunnels past a giant snake skin which only increased her terror.

She had eventually stopped facing a wall with entwined snakes engraved in it. They had glinting emerald eyes which looked strangely alive, she had spoken to them in the strange language again and the wall slide apart and before her had been a large but dimly lit chamber, the ceiling enshrouded in darkness, supported by wide columns, with twisting serpents engraved on them. Again, she had walked forward purposefully and as she walked she had almost felt energy being drained from her. She had made it to the end of the chamber before she collapsed onto her knees before a giant statue though her vision was becoming blurry so she could't see any of the details of the statue.

She vaguely remembered the diary slipping from her hand and the pages beginning to flip as though being pushed by a strong breeze. It stopped as the pages reached the centre, her dread had increased as the pages began to glow with a black aura and a large blurry figure seemed to be expelled from the pages.

"Ginny, Ginny, Ginny," a soft voice came from the figure and though she hadn't recognised the voice she had known it was Tom, "Poor, foolish little Ginny. You know, it's almost comical that you thought you could stop me. I have to commend you on a valiant effort, though of course it was a wasted and futile effort none-the-less."

She had barely comprehended what she was hearing, as her energy continued to fade away. What did Tom mean? _Why _was he doing this? The figure before her was slowly coming more into focus and she could make out the handsome face of a sixteen year old Tom.

"Ah, you want to know _why, _little Ginny?" he had said as though he could read her thoughts, "Well I suppose the most simple answer would be because _I can_. And I can because an innocent little girl gave her very soul to an invisible stranger. You will most likely never understand the gift you have given me Ginny, but I won't waste my time trying to explain it to you. My other reasons, for using you as I have, are a little more complicated, and I doubt you have enough time left for me to explain. But I guess I could give you the short version. After all I wouldn't want you to die without knowing what you are dieing for. And the simple reason, little Ginny, would be: so that I can live.

I must thank you, you have made this all a lot easier for me, with your naivete and your foolishness. You did put up a bit more of a fight than I anticipated, but it was far too late for you by then, you had already given me _more_ than enough power to get you to do what I wanted. And you've got to admit, Ginny, that there are far more people that will care that I am alive, than those that will care that you are dead. Since from what you've told me you have few friends, your brothers tease you and no one even noticed you were being possessed all this time, you are all but invisible little Ginny. Especially to the _great_ Harry Potter. Yes, Ginny he is the second reason you are here, you could say that you are my bait for a little trap I've set up which, from what you have told me, I have no doubt he will willingly and unknowingly fall into. Then we shall see how a mere baby defeated the greatest sorcerer in the world!"

Ginny became more and more confused, as Tom's words sliced through her heart like steel knives. Tom wanted to kill Harry? Why? Harry had done nothing to him, why would he care what happened between Harry and Voldemort?

"Oh, Ginny," he had sighed, pityingly, "Foolish, little Ginny. Have you really not figured it out yet? Your good friend _Tom_ is none other than Lord Voldemort himself. Yes, Ginny, you have given me the means to return to power and _finally _vanquish Harry Potter. He will not escape me again. I'm sure the basilisk will have no trouble taking care of him, though it is unfortunate that you weren't able to get my basilisk a few fresh _mud_bloods before we got to this point. But no matter, I will soon put the filthy mudbloods in their place. Once I have drained you of life, that is."

_NO, _she had thought, _I can't let this happen, you can't kill Harry! I won't let you! _She had struggled to get to her feet but soon fell back to her knees, more tired than ever, her tears coming faster and faster.

Tom had sighed again, a bored and impatient expression forming on his blurred face, "Can't you feel the futility of your struggles, Ginny? Can't you accept that you have_ lost_ and that there was never any chance of you winning, not against _me_!"

She had felt tired. So tired. Tired of fighting a lost battle.

She had one tiny hope though. Harry. Tom might be too strong for her but Harry could beat him. Couldn't he?

_What if he can't? Has my stupidity doomed us all to the reign of Voldemort?_ she had thought as her body continued to weaken.

"Yes, Ginny. Just accept your fate. You won't be alive for very much longer. I hope you aren't scared of death Ginny. It might be as simple as falling asleep. But I wouldn't know, I have never, and will never, die."

She had felt herself sink to the floor, her vision blurring and her thoughts becoming tangled.

"Know that you won't be alone in death. No, Harry Potter will be joining you _very soon. _Goodbye now, little Ginny. I won't be seeing you again." Tom said quietly.

Her last thought before the creeping darkness drowned her had been: _I'm sorry, Harry…_

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><p>She was jerked from her memories with a start as the train started to move again. She looked over at Harry, who was back in his seat, nibbling on chocolate, with a thoughtful, sad expression on his face.<p>

She wondered if he would ever know how much he meant to her.

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><p><em>Thanks for reading and PLEASE REVIEW!<em>

_~ TheOracle18_


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